Freddie stepped back from him. “I have to take care of something. Will you meet me at Jackson Square in an hour?”
He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?”
“No, I’ll be there in an hour, I promise,” she said. “I have to deal with my mother right now.”
Cleveland pulled her close and gave her one last kiss. “I’ll be waiting,” he said when they parted.
Chapter 21
Freddie burst into the hotel, looking for a fight and looking directly at her mother.
“You know what,” Loraine said when she saw her daughter at the entrance, “I don’t appreciate you disappearing for nearly a week and then coming back here giving me . . .”
“Save it,” Freddie snapped. “You’ve been absent from my life a lot longer than I’ve been gone from my hotel. Am I supposed to be impressed because you put in a few days’ work?”
Loraine folded her arms underneath her breasts and glared at her daughter. “How dare you come in here filled with your self-righteous indignation because you’ve been chasing some man? Did you get your fill of sex? That’s every woman’s downfall, a man with bedroom skills. Did he curl your toes and make you forget everything that I’ve ever taught you?”
“What you taught me? All you taught me was bitterness and I thought I was doomed to be like you, Loraine. But why don’t you come clean, Mother. Tell me how you’re the reason my father was never around because you killed Nolan Watson! Tell me how you told me so many lies over the years that I’ve lost count. Tell me that!”
Loraine crossed over to Freddie and slapped her as hard as she could. The force of the blow made Freddie jump back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He-he’s been filling your head with these lies.”
“If you mean my father, then yes, he told me everything,” Freddie said. “Now, you tell me the truth.”
“I was tired of being a pawn in everybody’s game,” Loraine said, covering her ears with her hands.
“What are you talking about?” Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Your father, that charming son of bitch, hated Nolan Watson and I was dating him.”
“Dating who?”
Loraine cocked her head to the side. “Nolan. He was in seminary school, and your grandmother loved him. But Jacques Babineaux was different. So worldly and handsome. When he started paying attention to me, it was exciting and turned me on. What I didn’t know was your father courting me was just a part of his vendetta against Nolan.”
“I don’t believe you. If that’s the case, why would you and Dad have gotten married?”
Loraine looked pointedly at Freddie. “Things haven’t always been as loose as they are now. When I got pregnant, there was no way my parents were going to let me be a single mother. Since Nolan and I weren’t having sex, there was only one man who could’ve done the deed. At first I thought he was going to try and deny it, but he wanted a huge wedding in Jackson Square with all the stops.” Loraine shook her head as if the memory was too much to bear. She walked over to the window and looked out over the French Quarter. “So, on my wedding day, I heard your father telling Nolan that he finally beat him. That he finally had something he wanted and could never have.” A single tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly.
Freddie crossed over to her mother and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Are you telling me that you planned the shooting, set Jacques up and everything because of what he said on your wedding day?”
Loraine whirled around and glared at her daughter. “No, I did it because I deserved better. Your father was never a good husband. Do you know how many chambermaids I had to fire because Jacques was sleeping with them? And Nolan. He’d come around with his trophy wife on his arm, telling me that he’d dump her in a minute if I left Jacques. These men didn’t love me, I was a bone of contention for them and I was tired and angry. So yes, I shot Nolan that night and let your father take the blame for all of these years. And I’m not sorry.”
Shaking her head and backing away, Freddie felt as if she didn’t know who this woman was. “Did you think about how this would affect me?”
“Tell me, what do you really remember about your father? When you needed something or someone, I was there for you, not him. Our lives were better without him.”
Freddie threw her hands up. “I’m done with this,” she said. “Both of you are sick.”
“What are you done with?” Loraine asked. “You’re going to turn your back on me?”
“Yes, I’m leaving. You wanted this hotel, take it.”
Loraine stood between Freddie and the door. “No, no,” she said. “This is your legacy, your future so that you never have to depend on a man for a damned thing. Winfred, you turn your back on this and you’re going to suffer for it.”
Freddie pushed past her mother and headed out the door, then turned around and said, “By the way, you might want to tune in to the newscast at six.”
“What?”
“Jacques Babineaux is turning himself in,” Freddie said before walking out the door and heading for Jackson Square.
Cleveland walked around Jackson Square wondering if he’d been a chump. Was Freddie going to show up or had he driven all the way to New Orleans to be made a fool of?
She’s going to be here, I know she is, he thought as he headed for a vendor who was selling roses, carnations and daisies. As cliché as it was, Cleveland bought a bouquet of roses for Freddie. Smiling as he paid the vendor, he couldn’t remember when he’d gotten so corny. He was never the flowers-and-candy kind of man, but if it would make Freddie happy, then he could occasionally be corny. He glanced down at his watch, it had been an hour and still there was no sign of Freddie. He walked over to the statue of Jackson and wondered what it would cost to have a wedding out here. That’s just crazy, he thought. Freddie and I aren’t ready for marriage, yet.
A hand touched his shoulder and Cleveland turned around hoping to see a smiling Freddie, but she looked troubled. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Can we go? Just take me away from here, please.”
The flowers in his hand were nearly forgotten when he asked, “Where do you want to go? Back to the hotel?”
“No, absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head.
“What happened?” he asked.
Freddie sighed, “Just get me away from here. We can talk later.” She looked down at the flowers in his hand. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go, was it?”
He handed her the roses with a lopsided grin on his face. “This went totally differently in my mind.”
“I told you that you had a chance to leave and you decided to stick around,” she said, smiling through her sadness. “Welcome to the madness.”
“Is it really that bad?”
Freddie brought the roses to her nose and looked at Cleveland. “Worse. My family is about to be a part of a huge scandal, again. This time, it’s not just my Dad, it’s my mother too.” Her eyes glossed over with tears. “That’s why I want to get away. Before the media comes looking for me.”
“Whatever you want,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Where do you want to go?”
“Back to Atlanta, if you don’t mind. I’m going to have to get away from here to figure out my next step and I promise, no more running to Lillian,” she said.
“Good, because your friend has it in for me,” Cleveland said.
Freddie smiled weakly. “My bags are still in the car at the hotel. Hopefully we can get in and out without anyone, particularly my mother, seeing us.”
Cleveland nodded, noting that Freddie wasn’t in the mood to joke. They walked back over to the hotel and grabbed her bags from the Mustang. “You’re not taking the car?” Cleveland asked.
She glanced at it, thought about how long she’d worked to get it on the road and how she’d thought that having this car was like having a piece of her father. Now, she didn’t want it. She didn
’t want to be reminded that both of her parents were vindictive and ruthless people.
“I don’t want to take it,” she said. “I’ll look into getting something else later.”
Cleveland looked at her, not knowing what to say. He had thought that her car meant a lot to her. “All right,” he said, “then let’s go.”
“I’m sorry that I’m bringing you into all of this drama; it’s like a bad episode of Jerry Springer or something.”
He held her against his chest. “You’ll come out stronger when this blows over. And I’m going to be right by your side.”
She nodded as they headed for Cleveland’s car. Once they were inside the car, Freddie sat silently as he drove down the Interstate. Sensing that Freddie needed her quiet time, Cleveland didn’t say a word either, he just stole glances at her every couple of miles.
Freddie reached down and turned the radio on in time to catch a news brief about her father.
“In a shocking turn of events today, one of New Orleans’ most wanted criminals turned himself in,” the radio reporter said. “Jacques Babineaux, subject of a nationwide manhunt, is in custody at the Jefferson Parrish jail until the FBI takes custody of him. Babineaux was convicted for the murder of the Reverend Nolan Watson but escaped from prison and has been on the run for years. In a statement through his lawyer, Babineaux proclaimed his innocence and said that his former wife, Loraine Barker, is the killer.”
Freddie shut the radio off.
“Wow,” Cleveland murmured.
“See what I’m saying,” she said. “That’s why I have to get away from here.”
He nodded, “I see. That’s crazy. Did your mother open up to you?”
Freddie smiled sardonically. “Let’s just say the truth is even stranger than fiction. I think I liked it better when I was in the dark,” she said. “For years, I tried to ignore the media reports and whispers, but now I can’t drown this out.”
“When we get to Atlanta, you won’t have to think or talk about it if you don’t want to,” Cleveland said. “But if you do want to talk, I’ll listen.”
She sighed, her heart swelling as Cleveland spoke. Maybe he did love her and maybe he wasn’t trying to hurt her. But would she be able to allow herself to love?
Turning to Cleveland, Freddie asked, “When you were on the Internet doing that search about my father, what were you trying to accomplish?”
“Honestly, I just wanted to know what the big secret was. Why you were looking so hard for your father and how he could possibly not want to be a part of your life. Every time I talked to you about it, you shut down on me. I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy or anything like that.”
She touched his knee gently. “I didn’t want to tell you about my father because the last time I confided in someone about him, it turned out that he was trying to profit from my father’s capture. He was using me to get to the million-dollar bounty. So, I didn’t trust you with the whole story about my father.”
“I can respect that, but there’s something you should know about me. I’m not the kind of man who uses people and I don’t put my heart on the line often, so when I say I love you, that’s no bull, no games, and no hidden agenda.”
Freddie wished that she could tell him that she loved him too—that she was ready to open up and tell Cleveland that she loved him too—but she was too wounded and too hurt to say those words. Instead she just smiled and held his hand. Cleveland didn’t press Freddie to say anything and they fell into a comfortable silence as he drove. It was so comfortable that Freddie drifted off to sleep.
Cleveland stole glances at Freddie as he drove, smiling at the peaceful look on her face as she slumbered. She deserved the rest. She’d been running since he met her and now it was time for her to rest and receive what she deserved, a man in her corner who loved her.
He had a lot to prove and he knew that. Freddie didn’t seem as if she was going to be too quick to open up and he could understand it, but he was still ready to prove to her that he wasn’t like any man who’d hurt her in the past, including her father. Now that he had her, he was going to have to do everything in his power to keep her. Cleveland had to do more than tell her that he loved her, he was going to have to show Freddie in every possible way that he loved her.
After they had been driving for awhile, Cleveland stopped and woke Freddie up.
“Hungry?” he asked as he pulled into the parking lot of a diner.
Freddie stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “Starved,” she said. “Where are we?”
“Montgomery, Alabama. I figured we’d put enough distance between us and New Orleans before we stopped.”
“Thank you.”
They exited the car and headed inside the small restaurant. Since it wasn’t dinner time, but way past lunch, the place was nearly empty. A waitress pointed to the empty tables and said, “Seat yourselves.”
Cleveland nodded and chose a table in the corner near a wide window. Freddie plopped down and gazed out the window.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, noticing her melancholy disposition.
“I have to start all over,” she said. “Find a job, a place to live and everything. It’s like a second hurricane has blown through my life.”
“Well, you can stay with me until you find a place of your own. And maybe Jill can offer you a job with . . .”
“No, I’m not going to let you recreate my life for me. This is something I have to do on my own.”
Placing his hand on top of hers, Cleveland said, “I know you’re not used to having someone looking out for you, but that’s changed.”
“Cleveland,” she began.
“Good evening,” the waitress said. “Here are some menus. Our special is fried chicken and mashed potatoes with sweet tea.”
The couple took the menus and asked the waitress for a few minutes to go over them. As soon as she left, Cleveland turned his full attention to Freddie. “I’m not going to let you talk me out of helping you.”
“Cleveland.”
“I don’t want to hear it. This is how things work, I love you and you’re about to go through . . .”
“Will you shut up for two seconds?” she said. “I want to say thank you.”
“Oh,” he said, heat rushing to his cheeks. “I just thought you were doing that ‘being difficult’ thing that you do.”
“Whatever,” Freddie said with a slight smile on her lips. “I’m not difficult.”
“And the sun doesn’t shine,” Cleveland quipped. “If I can take you back to the night of Lillian’s rehearsal dinner?”
“Please, you were being an ass. All you did was complain about missing a pep rally.”
“You don’t understand how much I love football,” he said. “And it’s not often that the Falcons are playoff bound. Besides, with all of those bridesmaids looking at me like I was going to be their ticket to a trip down the aisle it was just too much. Besides, my plan was to attend the wedding, not the rehearsal dinner.”
“Uh-huh. You loved every minute of it. Never have I seen a man strut around the way you did that night.”
Cleveland leaned back in the booth with his arms folded across his chest. “Do you really want to go back to that night? Go on and admit that you were fighting how bad you wanted all of this.”
“Wanted to deck you.”
Chuckling, he reached across the table and stroked her arm. “We both know you wanted more than that. When you walked over to me that night, it took my breath away and then you started talking. So beautiful, yet so bitter.”
Freddie balled up a napkin and tossed it at Cleveland. “Whatever. Lillian really had it in for you. She really thought you had a night of debauchery planned for her man.”
“All I wanted was a night of debauchery with you. Especially when you tried to pretend that you didn’t want me.”
“I wasn’t pretending, I didn’t want you then,” she said with a smile on her lips. “But now is a totally different story.�
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“Is that so?” he asked with a wide grin on his face.
Raising her right eyebrow, Freddie returned his smile. “It is.”
He waved for the waitress and then said, “I suggest that we order the special and get the hell out of here.”
Chapter 22
After eating their meal, Cleveland and Freddie couldn’t get back to Atlanta fast enough. He drove at a neck-breaking rate making the two-and-a-half-hour trip in about an hour and forty-five minutes. As they pulled into his driveway and exited the car, Freddie remarked, “You’re lucky we didn’t get stopped by the police.”
“Well, had the officer taken one look at you, he would’ve understood.”
She playfully swatted his shoulder. “And just what would you have said to the officer?”
Cleveland pulled her against his body. “It’s a man thing, you wouldn’t understand if I told you.” Gently, he brushed his lips against her neck. “Let me get your bags.”
Freddie slipped her hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “My bags aren’t going to grow legs and walk out of your car. Besides, there’s something else you need to do first.”
His body responded to her hot words and gentle touch. “What would that be?” he asked, his lips close to her ear. She wrapped her legs around his waist and Cleveland cupped her ample bottom.
“I could tell you or you could carry me inside and I can show you,” she said before leaning in to kiss his lips.
Cleveland couldn’t get Freddie in the house fast enough. With one hand, he secured Freddie around his waist and unlocked the front door with the other one. Crossing the threshold, Cleveland kicked the door closed and then captured Freddie’s lips, kissing her with an urgent hunger. She returned his kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and probing the depth of it. A soft moan escaped his throat as his groin tightened in anticipation. Backing against the wall, Cleveland ripped her shirt open and Freddie grabbed at the waistband of his jeans. She dropped one leg from around his waist and planted her foot on the ground as he kissed her neck. Soft moans escaped her throat as his lips traveled down to her collarbone and across the tops of her breasts. With nimble fingers, she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Cleveland’s hardness spilled out of his boxers and Freddie stroked him as he continued to kiss her breasts.
More Than He Can Handle Page 18
